The sun had long begun its descent, casting a warm, orange glow over the streets as Ara walked toward her part-time job. The cool air nipped at her skin, but she barely felt it—her mind was still tangled in the harsh words exchanged with Arianna back at the university gate.
Frustration boiled in her chest, and before she could stop herself, she tossed her portfolio into a nearby trash bin. It was pointless now. That dream wasn't hers anymore.
She exhaled, adjusting the strap of her paint-stained bag and stepping forward. But as she walked, a strange sensation prickled at the back of her neck. That feeling.
Someone was watching her.
Her breath hitched. She glanced around, trying not to look obvious. People walked by in groups, lost in conversation, some heading home, others just out for the evening. It was normal. Nothing unusual.
But the feeling wouldn't leave.
She quickened her pace. The crowd thinned out. The sound of footsteps—one pair, steady and deliberate—became clearer. Following her.
Ara's chest tightened. The past came rushing in, suffocating. Her palms turned clammy.
Not again.
Without thinking, she bolted.
The footsteps behind her sped up.
Panic surged. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she turned into an alley leading to the busier streets. But before she could get far, a firm grip landed on her shoulder.
"Wait!"
A raw, terrified scream tore from her throat as she swung her heavy paint bag with all her strength.
Thud.
The man groaned, stumbling back as onlookers turned toward the commotion.
"Stay away from me!" Ara's voice trembled, her heart slamming against her ribs.
She expected him to retaliate, to say something threatening—but instead, the man winced, rubbing his arm. Then, with a deep breath, he spoke.
"I'm a police officer."
Ara's breath caught. She finally took in his appearance—older, maybe in his late 30s or early 40s, with a sturdy build and sharp but tired eyes. His uniform was covered by a dark coat, but now that she was looking, the badge at his waist was unmistakable.
Her stomach twisted in embarrassment. But confusion quickly replaced it.
"Why the hell were you chasing me?" she demanded, still on edge.
The officer sighed, his expression unreadable. "I wasn't chasing you. I was passing by and saw you in the crowd. It took me a second to recognize you, and when I did... I wanted to talk."
Ara frowned. "Recognize me?"
He nodded. "Don't you remember me?" His voice softened slightly. "I worked on your case."
The weight of those words nearly knocked the air out of her lungs.
Her case.
The one she had spent years trying to move past.
Her lips parted, but nothing came out. The officer studied her carefully, then continued, "It's been a long time, but when I saw you today, I couldn't just walk away." He hesitated. "I wasn't sure if I should approach you. But then you started running, and—I guess I panicked."
Ara swallowed hard, her mind racing.
The past felt like a ghost, suddenly standing in front of her again. She had always known that what happened to her would never truly disappear, but she never expected a reminder like this.
The officer sighed, his expression unreadable. "I just wanted to say… you're really strong."
Ara looked at him, startled.
He continued, "After everything you've been through, you're still standing. You're still moving forward." His voice was quiet but firm. "Not everyone can do that."
Ara forced a small smile, but deep inside, her heart ached.
Because the truth was—she didn't feel strong.
And the future she had once dreamed of?
It wasn't hers anymore.